


Sunburst

by the-canary (siruru)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Reader, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Inspired by Art, Mutant Reader, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/the-canary
Summary: After years of solitude, you sought out the color of life – you just didn’t think it would end up like this.





	1. synesthesia.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @captain-ariel-barnes writing challenge.
> 
> Prompt: “I think I just asked out on a date.”

Rays of blue, orange, and yellow mix together in swirls. Shades of green mixed with shades of gold, that a certain Ms. Potts had never seen before. It reminds her of her childhood, even if it wasn’t the greatest of memories, but also with the sun just shining above the trees -- it gives her the thought of  _ home _ , what she wants with a certain someone when everything is said and done.

“Are you mesmerized, sweetheart?” the all too familiar voice breaks her out of her daze, as Pepper turns to see the smiling but curious glance of her fiancé. She gazes back at the painting, this time taking in the name written in the corner, along with the simple title  _ Albany.  _

“I think I’ve found her,” Pepper smiles, as Tony laughs. This pet project of Pepper’s had been in the works for nearly a year now --as long as the New Avengers had been together-- in order to boost a sense of camaraderie between everyone, but also to do some good through the September Foundation.

“Well, then let’s find her,” is all Tony says smiling, before turning to a woman in a blue dress, ready to answer all their questions that the mysterious artist that had never attended their own exhibition before.

_ Synesthesia.  _

It had always been the easiest way to describe your “abilities”, to let them romanticize your gift in seeing something magical that others couldn't in either words or music, and not the actual truth that drilled painfully into your skull more than one in your lifetime. You had tried to snuff yourself out more than once because of the static and bright colors hidden behind your eyelids until you moved to the rural New York countryside -- in a cottage near the Hudson River. People rarely visited, and you rarely saw color ever again.

The grayness of this life was something you had grown accustomed to, but now  [ bright red ](https://www.schemecolor.com/iron-man-head.php) and  [ subtle mauve ](https://www.colorhexa.com/673147) (though she is lighting up into a warm  [ reddish brown ](http://www.perbang.dk/rgb/590000/) when he looks at her) are banging loudly in front of your little couch. You had told Martha you never wanted to meet with any potential customers, she was to do everything, and you would just push the material along. You had become a hermit for the latter part of your adult life and were fine with that. The headache growing in the back of your skull due to his incessant talking and bright pops of colors weren’t worth it, so you smile as a flush of  [ dark pink ](https://www.htmlcsscolor.com/hex/DB7093) slithers from the corner of your eye.

“So, you enjoyed my  _ Albany _ painting,” you remark, gathering what you could from his 20-minute talk, “I understand you would like a commission, Mr. Stark. But, why come all the way out here? You could have--”

“Talked to Mrs. Connor, yes we did that,” Tony starts up, grabbing the woman’s hand again as she smiles, “But, we want something more orthodox for this commission.” 

“Hmm…” you let out a curious noise, as he takes a seat back and Pepper looks at you, ready to work her magic as she hands you a folder.  You open it seeing the title “ _ The Avengers: An Art _ ” written in the center of the white paper. You look up and Ms. Potts smiles.

“The September Foundation has been looking for a grand way to open its first arts facility in Queens for some time now,” she explains as you look over the documentation --  a quick read up on the foundation, the Avengers’ connection, and your potential part, “We want to do an exhibit on the Avengers from different perspectives with one central artist as its focus.”

“Me?” you question hesitantly.

“Yes,” Pepper continues, trying to ignore the fact that she had already talked about a certain aspect of this proposal Mrs. Connors that the agent wasn’t too keen on, “But, there is a specific condition to the contract that comes with complete access to the Avengers.”

“And that would be?”

“Complete access to all members up to the exhibit opening comes with you having to live within the confines of either the Compound or the Avengers Tower in Manhattan,” she explains, as you put down all the papers on top of your wooden table. The idea of leaving your home shakes you to the core, and maybe Tony sees that.

“I haven’t left this place in more than a decade,” you manage to whisper out and shake your head, suddenly not willing take up the challenge that Martha had hyped you up all week for. You rub your forehead in agitation, “I don’t think…I could manage that.”

“I’m not telling you it has to be done immediately,” Pepper explains (her color lighting up to a [ light purplish red ](https://www.colorhexa.com/c71585) ), trying to calm you down, “And it could always be a case by case basis.”

“Besides, as one  _ creator _ to another,” Tony steps in with a smile, red burning your eyes as though you are staring directly at the sun, “A new place might drum up some new ideas. Your next artistic masterpiece could come a la Stark.”

The burning softens once he stops talking and you laugh at his comment, Tony grins at Pepper who just shakes her head. Both colors in front of you soften and you can tell for in that brief moment how much they are in love with each other. It’s a welcomed sight to the usual bright orange that Martha always brings on her visits, and you wonder how much you have missed from interacting with other humans -- in that instant you start longing for color, because in the darkness of your solitude it’s hard not to miss sometimes. The room is silent, as you let out a sigh, remembering that you had to face the unknown every once and awhile.

“Could I think about it?” you ask, as pops of color flash from both of them in surprise as they look at you, “I wouldn’t mind moving to the Compound, but there are still loose ends and commissions I have to finish beforehand.”

“Yes!” Pepper exclaims, scaring you for as she smiles. Her color dazzles you as it shimmers a bit more red than before and you can’t help but catch her enthusiasm, “We’ll set up the rest with Mrs. Connors.”

“That would be great. Thank you,” you nod, as you exchange a few more pleasantries before leading them to the entrance. A luxurious car and a man with a shade of  [ light green  ](http://www.color-hex.com/color/bcee9d) sitting in front of the car is waiting for them. You wave as they begin to leave, however before completely moving away Tony Stark turns to look at you --  [ a soft red  ](http://www.color-hex.com/color/ea2424) waving to-and-for in excitement.

“So, just one question,” he grins, and Pepper sighs in the background, obviously knowing what this is all about, “What color do you see when I talk?”

“Bright red, Mr. Stark,” you state without missing a beat, as he grins before taking off. The color slowly starts to leave you once again, as you keep staring at the woods -- black and menacing all at once. You roll your shoulders and head back inside, hoping that you made the right decision for once. 


	2. ultramarine.

_ It didn’t used to be this way.  _

And honestly it wasn’t always, you used to love the pops and sparks of color that people used to greet you with. You don’t know what happened between the childish notions and the breakdown in college that lead you to living like a hermit, barely interacting with others -- a Hedy Lamarr without anything to live for before or after. Things couldn’t stay the same and it scared you, it showed in your early works and while you feelings mellowed out, the loneliness started to crept in -- you weren’t ready to move on  just yet, but you took little steps and traveled around rural New York. Your  _ RNY  _ series had been a hit, people asked to see you, commissions were placed through Martha. 

_ It’s your time _ , she had told you. 

You hadn’t believed her back then, there were still too many fears that had sunken your heart all those years ago. You didn’t have the capacity to believe in people like you used to because in the end someone always needed your powers for something -- you were better off casting it all way. But, the Stark project is a big deal, Martha had pushed and tugged you on it, but in her soft waves of orange, you know she is just trying to do what is best for you -- Martha knew from the beginning what you were trying to do, and in her own way was suggesting the next step.

Maybe, that’s why you got out of the house for once and headed to the small town near your alma mater. From what you can tell the skies are gray and the letters on the contract that you are carrying around are in black, but people around you and the water colors that you’re used to carrying around pop with color -- it has always been like this. 

_ It has always been like this.  _

“That’s beautiful,” you look up to see the elderly waitress with a light smile in her face, the lightest of blue swirl in appreciation for the art in front of her, and you want to believe the sky might look like that. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say softly, as she nods before placing the your food and coffee down and heading back inside. You take a glance at the small town before digging into your food. A spark of a wish in your heart, as you take a little step forward.

Black is the color you sign your name on the contract in.

* * *

Gray shimmers in all kinds of ways as you make your way through the hallways of the Avengers’ Compound in upstate New York, actually not too far from the the town you had frequented in order to prepare for your time here. Being around more people eased the potential of all the color you saw, while Happy had once been a bright neon green, his color had eased to a lighter version as he showed you to where Mr. Stark was, after picking you up. You had only brought a satchel full of paints since everything else was basically provided you, but there were things that you worked with that couldn’t be replaced -- that were extension of your personal self. And though you tried to look your best --wearing a soft sweater, semi-fancy jeans and flats-- you could still see a paint stain here and there.

“Mr. Stark and some of the other Avengers should be in there,” Happy explains, as you nod. He fidgets for a moment, ready to leave but as you turn to look at the door -- he turns to you again, a question on his lips, “What color do you see me as?”

You smile, used to the question being asked hundreds of times beforehand, “Bright green.” 

“Huh,” Happy just lets out in conformation, not exactly unpleased with this new information but unsure of what to do with it either. He walks away murmuring to himself, as you take a deep breathe and open the door.

Your eyes squint for a moment, as Mr. Stark welcomes you with a pat on the back. The room is wider than any you have seen, could probably fit your whole little house in there, as one wall is completely made out of glass and the others have shelves and shelves filled with painting materials. Easels laid down careful or hanging on stools ready to be used. You gasp at the sight, color label shin like fairy lights, as you stand still --completely mesmerized-- at the sight of the room.   

“This is completely your space with your room a few doors down,” Tony explains with a grin at your awestruck expression, “Barring missions --like right now-- and trainings, all the Avengers are an open book to you, kiddo.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you try to find the words, as he stands next to you,“This really too much. I…”

“I’ve seen your work and Pepper loves it as well,” he puts a shoulder on your back, like some type of proud parent, “I think we’re in good hands with choosing you.”

“I--I’ll try my best,” is all you can really say, as Tony grins and pats you on the shoulder. You nod, scared but a little more prepared to meet the Avengers though one had been on the forefront of your mind since you had signed up for this project. Her powers and the way people had talked about her not so long made you project yourself onto her for a moment, even though you were certain her problems were much bigger than yours. 

“Then, I was wondering if could I start off with Ms. Maximoff,” you admit softly but before Tony Stark can say anything, heavy footsteps grab your attention as you turn to see the darkest blue you had ever seen coming from a person -- somber and unmoving.

“Tony,” the all-too-familiar voice filters out, as you look between the two men, “Oh--You have a guest.” 

“Ah, Cap! I’m sure the mission went well,” Tony smile as he motions you to follow him, “This is the artist I was talking to you about, she’ll be staying with us from now on.” 

You play with the end of your sleeve, touching the cracking paint in order to find some sort of comfort, and give the man a soft smile. You are unsure of what to say to Captain America, even more unsure of how to react as Tony Stark’s red pops in anticipation, while the taller man’s stays unmoving. He gives you a polite smile and moves his hand forward. 

“It’s nice to meet you, miss,” his tone is as even as the color. You pause for a moment before reaching out and grasping it.   

“It’s nice to meet you too, Captain Rogers,” you manage to say without a stutter, as his smile grows a bit more, as you see pink in the corner of your eyes calm to a light, almost whitish color. 

_ It was going to be okay.  _


	3. midnight.

It’s strange at first when you decide to spend the morning --after your first week--  drawing around the  [ Avengers’ Compound ](http://marvelcinematicuniverse.wikia.com/wiki/New_Avengers_Facility?file=New_Avengers_Facility_Ant-Man.jpg) . You had tried your hardest to find a place where you could see all the forest area that reminded you of home, but not to far from your room.  You trailed a bit from the central facility and towards the smaller buildings, but never crossing the road. You sat down on the grassy area and began to draw the early morning light. Grays and blacks mixed together as you sketched different areas, slowly you headed to the other side of the building and caught of a glimpse of the river. That’s when you catch it, a blur of blue running down the road, against the dark colored backdrop you can’t help that it catches your attention.

It’s the saturation, the deep deep blue, makes you realize who it is -- Captain Rogers. 

You have to wonder briefly what could have happened to America’s Golden Boy for him to have such a color. In your lifetime and in the limited understanding you had of your powers, the deeper the color usually meant there were some deep sadness connected to their central personality it, but that changes depending on their emotions -- pops and flashes of lighter colors would usually indicate this. However, between the moment you had met him and now, there was no change whatsoever. 

_ What the hell could that mean? _

“Good morning,” a voice drags you out of your thoughts, as you jump and look up to see him looking at your direction. Still startled but not wanting to be rude, you give him a small wave before picking up your items. He runs, a streak of blue almost as dark as the forest canopy, and you can’t help but frown a light.

“I’m gonna need some water colors now,” you murmur to yourself as you get up and head back inside. 

In your annoyance, you try to ignore that details you are remembering --in the details of the area, of his face and stature-- that the artist inside of you now wants to have blooming in front of you. 

A beam of blue on a dark day, a light amidst the darkness -- it almost suits Captain Rogers too well.

* * *

 

Wanda knows it from the moment she sees you sitting across the kitchen countertop. She can feel it in the air and sense it in the way of just how closed your mind is to everything else. As open and friendly the kitchen is designed to look, you still feel like a caged animal with hunched shoulders and a tight grip on  the little book in your hands. 

Just like you know her background, Wanda knows that you have been living in the forest of Upstate New York for quite some time, hidden yourself from the world with only your agent being the main contact for you. It echoed loudly enough for everyone that you were hiding something, but Wanda knew the moment she sees you. The moment that you played more attention --for whatever reason-- to the center of her body more than anything else. 

“Ms. Maximoff, it good to meet you,” you state while getting up from your seat. She smiles, magenta lightens up into a softer version, but you can’t help but notice there is a blur bright blue at her core, though it quick disappears as it appeared. 

“Wanda’s just fine,” she explains as you nod. She states that it is her turn to cook dinner for the rest of team and you wholeheartedly agree to help. It had surprised her that you didn’t want to interview her or have her standing in some strange position while you painted her, instead you had asked her to think of something she enjoyed doing and you could either watch or even join her. She chose cooking dinner for the rest of the team that was here.

“What are we making tonight?” you question, while going over the other side of the kitchen as she takes out a large pot alongside some meat and a variety of vegetables. It all causes you to look at her curiously since you are used to making dinner for one person and even then only a few days of leftovers, not a whole army as Wanda seems prepared to do.    

“Some beef and vegetable stew,” she remarks, as she motions to to start cutting the vegetables while she proceeds to rub more things onto the already marinated meat, as she places the pot onto the stove with some oil and cut onions.  

“Do you all eat this much?” you can’t help but ask with wide eyes, as she laughs -- her red flaring into at the question. 

“If we don’t portion it correctly, Steve and James would eat this all on their own,” Wanda explains, as all you do is nod, though still not fully grasping how much Captain America and the former Winter Soldier could eat.  The two of you ease into a steady but tense silence of unspoken questions as you finish cutting all the necessary ingredients as Wanda starts adding things here and there. She is taking a taste of the broth when she turns to look and ask the one thing that breaks everything that you have been avoiding. 

“Could you hand me the paprika?” she questions, while pointing to the where all the spices were located. You frown, but do what she asks anyway, until you see nothing but dark leaves and a variety of gray containers.  

“Paprika?” you question, looking at the cabinet in confusion since everything back at home is marked with a label to denote which spice is which. 

You turn and see her red is a bit darker than before in suspicion as she finally decides to thread the murky water, “It’s not synesthesia, is it?”

“Sometimes, people don’t see anything but your powers,” you say, not confirming or answering her question, though surprising even yourself at how bitter you sound (how dark the pink in the corner of your eyes pops at the memories) towards the end as you look away, “To be used, forgetting there’s a person underneath for convenience.” 

“Not everyone is like that,”  Wanda chides in once more, feeling that this might be the only chance she gets before you completely shut her out, “There is always going to be someone willing to give you a helping hand, for you to trust, though I’ll admit it is a long road.” 

“Then, you are a very lucky person,” you state before going back to the spice cabinet and bringing out 3 different containers -none which are the damn paprika- to her, only to have her shake her head. And while you still feel a bit troubled after the conversation, you can’t help but smile just a bit at the reminder of the limitations that you haven’t seen in such a long time. 

After all that, the rest of the meal prep time is spent exchanging pleasantries of more comfortable childhood memories that come with the dish you are making, what it means working in your vastly different careers, and most of all music. As she mentions she is trying to learn how to play guitar and you mention that you sort of know you way around the clarinet, though you can’t agree on what was the better decade of music since you were both all over the place. 

“This was very lovely, Wanda,” you say tersely, while drying your hands an hour later as the dishes are almost done, unsure of when was the last time you actually cooked a meal with someone, but overall enjoying the experience.  

“The invitation is always open, even if you just want to come and eat with us,” Wanda says like a mother trying to appease their child, as you give her a small nod but decide not to take her advice, it’s too new and raw for now. It’s better to let it dry and crack for awhile.  

“I--Thank you,” is all you manage to say before getting your plate and leaving the kitchen area to go back to hiding in your room, as she shakes her head though she knows by experience that things like this take time. However, if she wants to gain your trust, she knows that she will have to stay quiet about your powers for now, as you grow more accustomed to the other Avengers. So, as they all come bustling in, she stays quiet over the issue, though she does answer curious questions here and there.   

After meeting with Wanda a few more times (even Vision for a moment by accident), you realize that this isn’t going to be a normal art project anymore. You don’t know how this will all end up and while you are apprehensive about how it might connect to your powers, you take a deep breath before taking the next steps. As you get up one night and head to the art room designed for you, the soft lights of the colors welcoming you once more -- the only thing you have ever really needed. 

“Let’s get to work,” you murmur as you get one of the easels and place it down on the floor before getting several shades of a certain color, as you paint the rest of the night away.  

Swirls of red, old recipes book pages, a dash of  [ campanulas ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Campanula_gelida) , a little sage and spice with a flash of blue for loss and a bit of gloss for the potential of something more, of finally being in a place that can finally be called home. 

This is Wanda Maximoff to you, though you don’t plan on showing her just yet.

* * *

 

It starts off simple enough by seeing the artwork placed proudly on display in Pepper’s office, another piece finds it way into Tony’s soon afterwards. There is a small pamphlet of your works laying about that catches his attention and he finds himself looking over it, again and again. He questions what techniques you used, the shading and position of the designs, and he can help but wonder what caused the change between your darker works and this more rustic series. 

He’s curious, and then he hears that there is a small expo of your latest sets of work -- the ones you did before the Avengers project came up. He knows you aren’t going to be there -- you never go to these sorts of things and he knows you are back at the Compound, having chosen it over the Tower.   

With his mind made up, Steve goes as discreetly as he possibly can -- only for Nat to give him a small smile as she makes it out of the gym and crosses his path on the way to the elevator. 

“Ohh,” she coos, already memorizing the situation and saving it for later, “Where are you going?” 

“Art exhibit,” Steve states, knowing it's pretty much useless by now to lie to one of his closest friends, though not really giving her the reason why.

“By our resident artist,” she states more than questions with a grin, like she already knows something that Steve doesn’t -- not yet anyways. However, she decides to keep to herself for now, “Have a good time.” 

“Thanks,” Steve says with a confused uptick in his voice, obviously expecting more from the Russian, as she just shrugs and gets out of his way. Green eyes stay locked on his figure until she sees him disappear after entering the elevator. 

“Hmm, is he going for the art or the artist,”  she murmurs to herself in question before heading towards a certain birdman’s room to talk about the blond’s non-existent love life.  


	4. dark blue.

You’re right when you were thinking about how strange the rest of the Avengers’ colors might be moving forward with the project. This comes to light when you meet Vision through Wanda. The android is polite and even a little curious at your type of sight, though he is quick to calm down when he notices your hesitation when it comes to questions on those types of things. What you do the most is watch them cock together, smiles and casual touches are exchanged as you flicker from looking at them and drawing in your sketchbook, not that you let them see. You wouldn't tell them of how you were fascinated by the pops of colors the came from Viz -green, red, blue, magenta mingling together  and sometimes there is nothing at all- like water bubbles and while you theorized that it might be due to his difference, you knew it was also because of Wanda. The softness and rays of colors was something you only saw when people were in love, you had seen that from Ms. Potts and Tony Stark as well. 

You wonder if your color would change if you ever got the chance to love in such a manner, as you glance down at the water colors streaking the page. You don’t see any pink, as if you deep down were trying to avoid the question. However, any other thoughts are stopped at the sound of a kind British tone of voice asking you a question. 

“Will you be eating with us tonight?” Vision asks, monochrome is the only thing you see as you turn to look at Wanda, a light red flash pops up as if trying to encourage you. She smiles only to drop it a second later when you shake your head. 

“No, thank you,” you say as politely as possible as Vision simply nods before giving you a tray to carry to your room. They both say their goodbyes as you head towards your art room once more. 

You sit in there for a long time, trying to get the technique to technicolor on your easel just right.

* * *

 

The first time you meet Sam Wilson, you come to the realization that you’re going to need sunglasses if you’re going to keep interacting with him. His smiles are just as bright as the color that pulses in front of you -- a rare one at that too.

Yellow.  _ Canary yellow _ , if you remember correctly and it makes you want to laugh. 

You also realize that Sam Wilson can get anything out of you if he says the right words. A simple coffee meeting almost ends up with you going to the gym because he talked you out of explaining your unhealthy sleeping and eating habits, a bit more you wonder what else he would have gotten out of you --- though you wonder if it’s just the type of person that he was or whether you were just that needy for attention after so long. In your next meeting with him, you a little more on guard, wearing glasses and a bit more tight lipped as he has you standing on that grassy area you have come to enjoy so much. A strange machine sitting in front of you, as Sam Wilson shines like the sun with excitement. 

“What is this?” you question walking around the compact little thing, as Sam pushes buttons on his wrist so that it can stare moving, which causes you to jump a little.

“This is Redwing,” Sam explains as you keep starting at the red and grey drone, “The other half of the Falcon.” 

“How fascinating,” you coo in amazement which causes the man to grin, as he starts making Redwing move around and do some moves. You take out a Stark Phone that is a few generations behind and turn to look at him,  “Could I?”

“You’re clearly behind on the times. But, go right ahead, Picasso,” he remarks with a laugh as you frown at the nickname before going back and taking pictures of his faithful companion. Sam wonders for a moment, if he should start asking you questions, since he’s already seeing how much of a recluse and introvert you seem to be, but he just needs to get information more than you know, “I’m no collector but I like your paintings,  _ Apollo/Cassandra  _ is definitely one I remember.”    

You pause in mortification of your darker, mythology based paintings  and look at the grinning man, “That one’s pretty old.” 

“I know a guy that goes to  _ all  _ your exhibits,” Sam remarks cryptically and you wonder if this man is insane. You shake your head before going to back to the task of taking pictures of Redwing, which you found sort of cute in a strange “I have never seen this type of tech before” sort of way. This leads to you asking a bit more about his time in the Avengers, which leads to him telling several stories involving missions and incident with Captain America and the former Winter Soldier.

You’re in awe over how the color moves over his stories and the warmth of his voice drags you into them, and if he shows anger over Bucky Barnes here and there -- it never really changes the shade of yellow he is displaying. Sam Wilson is truly a kind and caring person, the type you wish you had met sooner in life, maybe then--  

“Now, let me ask you,” Sam asks, placing Redwing back on the ground  as you have to look away for a moment, “What got you to start painting?”

“Hmm, my parents always traveled a lot,” you answer with a partial truth, “Coloring books and projects were things they always gave me to calm down, be quiet. Before I knew it, it was the only thing I knew.” 

“Do you regret it?” Sam asks, delicately poking at how far he can get at the moment as you watch pink darken and flash,“Making painting your only passion.”

That’s the bigger question at hand, but you aren’t sure if you are willing --at this stage of your life-- to look at where this had lead you and whether you were all right (you still weren’t) with the process that had given you these powers in the first place. It was better beyond the closed door of your psyche for now. 

“Some days are easier than others,” you admit, however before Sam can say anything you notice a familiar dark streak --maybe a little lighter this time around-- running down the path. You pause getting caught in that color once more, “Isn’t a little late for Captain Rogers’ run?” 

“You’re  _ absolutely _ right,” Sam says, but there is a teasing quip to it  that you don’t catch as you keep staring at Steve Rogers. The man waves for a quick moment as you return the gesture, watching that there is no change whatsoever, “Probably just came in from a mission or something.” 

“I see,” is all you say before you go back to talking to Sam, though he insists and the two of you to head back inside for lunch. You end up talking about his training regiment and some of the happier times within the Air Force. You end up telling him about Tivoli and how you’re not quite that good with tech due to living in the wilderness for so long. He laughs.

“Oh, that definitely reminds me of someone.”

Sam bids you goodbye a bit later in the afternoon and like that the sun disappears into gray once more. Your chest aches at the lost moment of interaction and can’t help but shake your head at the desperation making your hands shake. For the first time since you have arrived, you wonder if you should go and finally accept Wanda’s invitation, however fear quickly sinks your heart down once more before scampering away to your room, hoping you don’t run into anyone. 

Blue eyes watch you go back into your room, as you draw all the birds you can think of until you fall asleep.

* * *

 

It’s a couple of mornings after that when Sam decides to move on with his little questioning, after everything he had seen himself and what he had talked about with Nat -- the situation was made even more clear to him. He wakes up the time he knows Steve goes on his run and prepared he goes down the same path, but with a different start. Sam watches from afar as he sees his close friend run up where he had been with a certain artist a few days ago, and just how she had mention -- she is sitting there, water colors and book laid out in front of her and engrossed in her activity.

“Good morning,” Steve yells and raises his hand, as she raises her hand -- stained in blue before going back to work. Steve turns on the road, too dedicated to his run that he doesn’t notice someone looking back up for a split second as her painting quickens for a moment. Sam’s interest increases twice fold at this.

“Sam!” a familiar voice greets him, as the younger man can’t help but groan at the super soldier though not as annoyed as when he first met him. Steve then passes him once, twice but never again does he yell at the artist for her attention, though she does look up a couple of more time -- even greets Sam.  

Sam’s mind is already running with ideas, as he and Steve head back into the compound. He grins, as it cautiously catches Steve’s attention.    

_ “So, I heard you went to someone’s exhibit the other night?” _

Steve can’t help but groan. 


	5. fairytale pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the first time I write for either of these characters and I am super nervous, but I hope I can do some justice to Thor and Bruce! I guess I should mention that this is Post-Ragnork but ignoring the pain that IW. I’m sorry in advance.

Sam is the second one to notice, though he doesn’t say anything about the little misshapes that you have. 

“Morning, Picasso,” the man grins from behind the stove, eggs and bacon cooking, as you mumble a greeting back. Sam had taken up to making you have breakfast with him when he was in the Compound when he came to the realization that you often missed breakfast due to either painting or sleeping in. In some of the worst cases, not eating until noon and Sam couldn’t have that. 

At first, the little incidents didn’t catch his attention, simply thinking that you were too sleepy or tired to notice the mistakes you were making -- confusing sugar and salt, not being able to tell what certain things were if it didn’t have a label. Sometimes, he even noticed that far away look you would give him with a soft smile -- Sam knew loneliness too well when he saw it and he had to wonder how starved for friendship and human interaction you were due to being hidden away for such a long time. He mostly wondered about the reason why you hidden away, as he came to the realization that the two things might be related. 

In some ways, it reminded him of a certain someone.

“Good morning, Captain Rogers,” you say in even tone, as the blond enters the room. Steve had slowly become another fixture of these mornings together after his run. He usually sat a few seats away from you, asking you questions here and there, but never anything personal as you answer back to your best of your abilities. 

“Who's next in your project?” Steve questions and to anyone else it might seem calm, but Sam can tell well enough that there is a hint of nervousness at the edge of his tone. Steve had been waiting for his turn for quite some time, as Nat had told him, but he knew you were saving him for last alongside Tony. 

“Thor and Dr. Banner,” you nod while taking a bite out of your toasted bread, hand leaning towards the sugar only to have Steve push it back and move the salt forward -- as you grabbed it and used it on your eggs before taking a bite. 

Brown eyes turn to meet blue ones and Sam can confirm that Steve had noticed it too. 

* * *

 

You turn to see a bright pink from the corners of your eyes. It’s strange but your color, whenever it peeked through, shined a bit lighter than before. It confused you sometimes, but it no doubt had to do with the interactions you had with Sam, Wanda, and by extension Captain Rogers. Human interaction was something that you had missed dearly, you just hadn’t know how deep that starvation ran though you were still fearful of a lot of things, which was why outside of those three -four if you counted Viz- you kept your interactions limited. 

However, you also kept going with what you had been paid for, which meant meeting some of the other Avengers and expanding your circle of interactions, which meant meeting with Thor and Dr. Banner. 

You had heard a lot about the two since they had come back from their space adventures, hell if you really thought about it -- you connected too much Dr. Banner in regards to his powers and how he gained them, but you pushed that to the back of your head. It wasn’t time for that. 

“G-Good afternoon,” you manage to say at the sight of the god and scientist near one of the back patios of the background. And once again, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised that the god of thunder shined a different shade than anyone, this was completely different to anyone else though.  

While, Dr. Banner has a dark green core that lights up only near the edges (strange in and of itself), Thor’s color is something you can’t see at all. It confuses and scares you for a moment, but when he laughs or smiles just a bit there is a flash of a rainbow striking near his core. It fits his motif as the god of thunder and you’re mesmerized by it -- it’s utterly dazzling when it comes through.

“What would you like to have us talk about?” Thor declares jovially, as welcoming as he can be, as Dr. Banner gives you a shy smile while threading his palms on his thighs nervously. 

“Anything is fine with me,” you nod while giving them a small smile, as the green from Dr. Banner rolls anxiously for a moment.

They end up talking about their adventures in Sakar, though it is mostly Thor giving all the details and Dr. Banner giving his own commentary here and there along the way. Asgard was long gone and Thor along with his other companions were working hard to give the survivors a home in Europe with the help of Stark Industries. He gave great details into everything (the rainbow dazzling your eyes at moments) that they had faced in Sakar and while you could tell that there were times, where the monochrome was all you saw, you couldn’t help frown a little -- this god had gone and lost so much but he still kept going.

It was awe inspiring, but it made you think too much of your own defeatist attitude. The man gives you the largest smile at the end of the story, as you keep asking for more as he ends up talking about the earlier days of the Avengers, as he tried his hardest --with boisterous laughter-- to have Dr. Banner enters the discussions as well, which he does a little more as time passes on. It’s nothing but easy conversations and you even share some of your own stories. Time passes and eventually it is soon time for dinner, as the lights soon fill the darkness around the forest. 

All three of you get up, as you can’t help but ask after Thor laughs.       

“Does the Bifrost shine like a rainbow?” you ask softly, as blue and brown eyes turn to look at you. Monochrome is all you are met with for a moment, as one single thunder strike of the multicolor light welcomes the weaker smile on the god’s face and you wonder if you stepped on a landmine.

“Yes, it does in a sort of way,” Thor seems at a loss for a moment, until he looks straight into your eyes. There is a way of understanding on his face before that shadow of a smile graces his face once again. You remain stiff where you are standing, trying to explain the best you can. 

“You shine like it,” you states with a helpless shrug as you keep babbling, “I don’t know if that helps in anyway.”

“You have a different type of sight,” Thor puts it together rather quickly, as you just give him a bitter smile.  

“Something like that,”  is all you admit and say nothing more on the subject.   

He nods in understanding before giving your shoulder a pat in silent thanks and while he tries to drag to eat with them for the night, you politely refuse once more -- already giving away too much of yourself for the night. Later that evening, you feel the need to purchase, something you haven’t in a very long time, art books about old heroes and tales that used to bounced in your head all the time once. Norse mythology isn’t the same as Greek, but as you lay out a large butcher seat of paper that night  -- you hope to do the god’s world some type of justice.

* * *

 

Dr. Banner is a little harder to meet with, he likes to hide in his lab and is usually either with Thor or Mr. Stark. He stays quiet, but he knows that you are watching from afar from time to time. To be truthful, it is a little nerve wracking for the both of you, but you keep moving forward and watching the man from afar. It’s through these days that you see the subtle changes, the green never changes but sometimes the dark at the center of his core moves forward when he is annoyed or something bothers him.

“Do you enjoy following me around?” Bruce state in one of the large libraries within the Compound. You aren’t sure by his tone of voice if he is annoyed or angry, what you had been told is that Dr. Banner had gotten better at hiding his emotions and it was apparent in his unchanging color as well. 

“A little,” you say with a smile, trying slightly to get a different reaction out of him and for a moment it works -- the green brightens for a moment near the edge, like the coastline of your home. Bruce understands what you are trying to do, as he shakes his head.

“Is this for the art project?” he asks, moving his hands around for a moment. However, he pauses as you shake your head, which causes him to frown, as he motions for you to take a seat near one of the large windows that overlooks the grassy area of the Compound. 

“Have you ever read or come upon an enhancement project that has been reversed?” you question in complete seriousness, as brown eyes look at you bright with question as the green darkens once more.

“Why would you want to know that?” Dr. Banner asks, completely serious now. The green rolling in moves like what the forest might look like back in your home during a dark spring evening. 

“Research purposes,” you answer vaguely, which causes him to raise an eyebrow, but he indulges your thought and goes through all the experiments he had heard of and some that he isn’t sure existed, but they all give you the same answer --  _ enhanced powers can’t be reversed. _

However, your question apparently opened a little the mystery that is Dr. Bruce Banner, as you spent the rest of the morning learning things you hadn’t before when it came to this type of research -- things that you had been kept in the dark about when you were younger and you were grateful towards this man, even though he still seem too nervous around you afterwards. 

What you didn’t notice was that blue eyes watched from the entrance of the large library, art books in hand, before stepping back out. 


	6. picotee blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As in the previous episode, this is my first time writing for Nat and Clint in depth and canon, so I am sorry it is is bad. This is the culmination of the past couple of chapters, as our dear protag comes to a revelation!

After that moment, Dr. Banner picks up on your interest in regards to enhanced experiments and while he tells both Steve and Tony about this -- he keeps moving forward with explaining some more commonly known experiments to you. It is hard to understand some things, but it helps to ease your worries here and there that there are people like you that struggle with such powers, like Dr. Banner and Wanda. However, there is a difference between entering an experiment freely --like they did in some cases-- and being unknowingly forced into one. 

He asks you one day, underneath the glowing gray light of the sun within the library, though you are happier enjoying the rolls of light green coming off from him -- slightly a bit more easygoing and calmer than the first time you had met, but still dark at the center. A forest that shouldn’t be disturbed.

“Why are you so interested in this?” 

And for  the first time in a long time, you let the wall crumble for just a bit.

“It hits closer to home than you think,” you explain, as Dr. Banner just nods in catching the meaning behind your words, though brown eyes are just a bit softer than before. 

What you hadn’t realized is that you had been letting that wall crumble down for a long time now.

* * *

 

It’s strange not having anyone around for the first time since you had arrived to the Avengers Compound, but most had been called to active duty or were back in the Tower. You had been asked --by both Bruce, Sam, and Wanda-- if you had wanted to go there, but you had politely declined. Too many people and colors around you lead to bad things -- fatigue, nauseous, headaches that you couldn’t get out bed for days. 

It was better to stay in the countryside, to stay away from all the people that could harm you. However, you were slowly starting to learn that not everyone was there to use or hurt you. You just didn’t understand if the Avengers were the only exception to that, especially when they were starting to come with their own set of problems. 

You were starting to dream in color again too-- something you hadn’t done in a long time, and frankly it scared the crap out of you. It lead to less time asleep and more time to wandering the hallways and the deeper, more forested areas that the Compound had to offer. 

It also meant seeing more of Captain Rogers, for a strange reason, though you didn’t want to think about that at the current moment, as a darker pink seeps through the corners of your eyes. However, before you can think about the connections any further, a voice catches your attention--

“Interesting,” you jump to see  _ dark red  _ move to and fro like light on glass at your reaction, as you come to the realization of who is the woman in front of you -- Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself. You gulp as she gives you a curious smile before turning to look at the rest of the art books splayed around the couch and coffee table. However, her eyes never leaving the  [ ballerina drawing  ](https://theartstack.com/artist/ernst-oppler/les-sylphides-1915) by Ernst Oppler that lays on your lap. 

“I’m sorry?” you finally speak in-between a mutter and a question as she leans on the couch a little more. You honestly weren’t expecting to meet her so soon, even if she was the next one in your project list, since she tended to work from the Tower outside of training new recruits, at least that was how Captain Rogers had explained it. The sudden meeting also threw you in a loop since you usually prepared very hard for each encounter -- this left you scared and vulnerable for the moment. 

“Are you interested in ballet?” she questions, ignoring your previous statement, as you shake your head. 

“The moves always looked nice,” you state as she watches you with a blank expression, as you explain a bit more, “I wasn’t allowed to go outside most of the time.” 

“Hmm,” she hums in thought, as if trying to put two and two together -- like she already has piece of you figured out and you don’t doubt it from everything you had heard and read about the woman that she probably did in some way. It wasn’t like you were hiding much, if anyone looked deep enough and for a long time they were sure to figure it out, though you just wanted to be left alone. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, play  [ _ 1st Shade from La Bayadere _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBGYLVhW2lQ) ,” Natasha declares, as the television in front of you begins to project an unfamiliar dance, while she takes a seat next to you and your pile of books. You give her a questioning look, as she nods -- red bubbling for a moment, which lulls you into trusting her as you hope you don’t regret this later on. 

No other words have to be exchanged for the rest of the day, though you swear you dream of red and pirouettes that night.      

What you didn’t know was that the spider usually came with her partner wherever she went since they usually worked together, so during your afternoon snack you were meet with not just Natasha but Clint Barton as well. You were meet with silence and tight smiles, but that suited you just fine -- you were more interested in their colors. Like Sam, Clint shined a unique color --electric purple-- and while you would think that their colors would spill into one another, as was the case when people were extremely close to one another, that didn’t seem to be the case. Natasha and Clint share things you didn’t understand and while you weren’t sure if it was out of love or simple camaraderie -- it was a lovely sight to see, as red sparkled like gemstone in the light and purple buzzed like radio waves. 

For most of your time alone, Nat had you following her and wherever she was Clint wasn’t that far away. Your usual blues were intermingled with shades of red with pencil being traded in for charcoal, as Nat couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of you with black smudges on your hands and face while your shirt was ironically painted in red -- like you had killed someone. It was morbid, but it had the both of you laughing for a good while as Clint just shook his head.

You trade in your late mornings of watching Captain Rogers run to looking around the forests to see what birds you can find in the area, much to Clint’s amusement as he makes bird calls every so often to confuse you in the long run. You learn more about the ballet during this time more than you have ever wanted to know and it filters into your art for a good while. 

However, their two weeks with you end too quickly as the mission soon calls them, while everyone will be coming back to the Compound soon. 

The night before is when you realize it -- you’ll miss them. You aren’t sure if everything was real for them, or if it is just a part of a bigger plot (because you are just that paranoid at this point of your life), but you are for the first time in a long time okay with that. You’re okay with being hurt by another human being and maybe one day, they’ll truly be people that care about you and it wasn’t a ruse. Well, you let Nat know--

Natasha is standing in the garage area, ready to leave with Clint in a black, unmarked car. Her color is as still as the Hudson during late fall, as she smiles at you.   

“Thank you for spending this time with me,” you go on softly, grinning as she nods, “I hope when this is all over with, I can keep calling you my friend.”

Red ripples, as pink shines like a seashell in the sun -- like it hadn’t in a very long time. 

“Yeah,” is all she manages to say before Clint call her, saying that they are going to be late. You smile and keep waving at them until you can’t see them anymore. 

It isn’t until much later, when you’re painted in reds, blues, and black with lace, tarlatan, and silk surrounding you that you come to a personal realization.

_ You’re okay with being hurt. You’re okay with feeling and seeing emotion once more _ . 

You laugh until your sides hurt at such a notion and you fall asleep with paint underneath your cheek -- heart content for once.  

* * *

 

Steve Rogers isn’t sure how to breach the subject without Sam there as his backup. It had been so much easier to talk to you when there was someone else there is an opening to the silence. While, there was still an air of mystery around you --especially as the team tried to put together what type of powers you had-- Steve found himself enjoying the familiar smell of paint that came with being around you, the gentle smiles and morning greetings you welcomed him with. Maybe Bucky was right -- he had it bad. 

Maybe, that’s why he was standing in front of you with a sketchpad he hadn’t used in quite some time, as  you look up.

“Could I join you?” he asks hesitantly, though you don’t seem to notice.

“Good afternoon, Captain Rogers,” is how answer back, while patting the empty spot on the thin blanket you had set up near the riverbank since the Compound didn’t have many benches, especially near that area. You made a quick look over to make sure that none of your supplies were not disturbing him before nodding in assurance, as he took a seat.   

“Steve is just fine,” he states, as you perk up at the sound of this new information. That’s when you take him in for just a moment -- sweats and a tight shirt like always, though he had shaven the beard off this time around and while he looked nice, you couldn’t help but miss the facial hair, though you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. You weren’t going to dictate Steve Rogers’ look.   

“Alright,  _ Steve, _ ” you state before going back to your own drawing, as Steve looks around to see what might catch his attention, but there’s really only one thing that does -- well, one person to be exact.

You’re humming, even saying a few words to yourself every once and awhile as you sketch the flowers not that far from the riverbank. An assortment of blues and greens were beside you, ready to be used when you were done with the initial concept. It was something that he had noticed that differ from his own art. While, he kept things in black and white most of them, you had to color them. And with him, just staring at you, Steve decides to just go with his gut instinct and start drawing.

The two of you stay like that for quite awhile, as you don’t move until are ready to start adding color to the drawing. However, as you move around you can’t help but notice the bright blue that seems to be shining from Steve. Yes, the dark core is still there, but most of it is the color of forget-me-nots with a little shading of white near the edges. You hadn’t seen anything like it and it had you mesmerized more than anything you had seen in your time with the Avengers. 

Steve must have noticed how you had stopped moving around, as he looks up at you for moment. A questioning look on his face, but you don’t seem to notice it.      

“You have a good shade of blue today,” you declare awestruck and little breathless before going back to getting ready to paint, Steve is a little confused by the statement but nevertheless smiles before going back to work on his own sketching -- you just didn’t know what it was.

It’s was Thursday afternoon, but it felt like a complete new start for both of you. 


	7. solid pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for @captain-ariel-barnes writing challenge. We are getting closed to the end and the revelations of the MC’s background, please enjoy Tony’s chapter! As always, I am sorry if it sucks.

It’s starts before you even plan on going, the thought so many people around  you send shivers down your spine like spider webs. You don’t paint for anything, just sit in the silence of your painting room for days. The dreams made of color are coming back stronger than before, which only causes your headaches to come back stronger than ever before. You knew this was a possibility when you took up the Avengers project, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

You hate your powers and though you had accepted the hurt, you still disliked being around people.  

_ My diamond. My dear girl, you’ll change everything for us.  _

You groan at the memory, ready to scream as pink darkens to nearly a solid red, but before anything else can happen a voice echoes loudly--

“Mr. Stark has agreed to be shadowed for the following week,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice rings out in the little room, as you groan in acceptance.

You let out a choked sob, as you can hear someone knocking at the door but you can’t find the will to get up or say anything at the moment. You were going to into the city for the first time in a long time, and you knew deep down this wouldn’t turn out well.

* * *

 

_ If you need anything, just holler. We’re not that far away. _

It’s only been a couple of hours since you had been picked up by the driver you have meet before --Happy?-- but you are already trying to find a million different ways to ground yourself at the onslaught of color that begins to blur as you enter the city. Streaks of colors and flashes of all kinds of emotions make you feel nauseous, as you lean against the window and groan. 

You try to think of Wanda’s cooking and her subtle smile with Vision. You hope that the sound of Sam’s laughter drowns out everything else. You try to take yourself to the grassy area and the smell of wood and flowers that you were so used to, but also a smell of aftershave and cologne that you were sure belonged to Captain Rogers. 

You let out a steady sigh, as the car stops and Happy declares with a cautious green light: “Welcome to the Avengers Tower!”

You get out the back of the car, starting at the dark monochrome glory in front of you with a frown, as you try your hardest to ignore that glittering colored lights moving on the sidewalks. You pull your canvas bag closer to you than before, in a means to protect yourself.  

“How are you enjoying New York?” Pepper can’t help but ask, as the three of you share a quick breakfast in their shared floor level in the Avengers Tower. You were supposed to follow Mr. Stark for the whole week, the first two were full with board meetings and time with Pepper Potts -- not that it bothered you. 

“Not much,” you remark as her red flounders for a bit in worry, “I’m really more of a country gal.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be back in no time,” Tony grins, as you can’t help but be for a confused for a moment, “I am sure a certain Captain is missing you right now.”

You raise a curious eyebrow at this statement, as Pepper glares at her fiance. Outside of that, breakfast moves forward without a hitch, as you come to realize the sight of the couple, as their colors pop and mingle in response to each other is extremely relaxing. It lulls you into a false sense of security for those business meetings you are suppose to be shadowing. 

Men with darker colors that send chills up your spine, though there are those that shine like the sun as they talk about finance and the new philanthropy that Stark Industries is looking towards creating for the city and beyond that. Everyone sparkles in their own way, especially Mr. Stark, even when he isn’t talking but one bright, determined light outshines everyone else.

It isn’t until close to end of the second day when you realize that all you had been sketching or designing had been related to Pepper Potts in some way, but Tony had and honestly he couldn’t blame you. So, at the end of the last meeting, when you are ready to head back to the Tower and they are going to grab a late dinner, he stops you.    

“You know,” Tony starts off with a smile, “I am sure Pepper would be thrilled if you ever decided to create something personally for her.”

You smile just how his shade of red changes to match her own -- love really was a beautiful thing.

“I’m already thinking about it, Mr. Stark,” you declare softly, as you had already been thinking about seashells and autumn leaves back from upstate New York. 

“Ah, good job, kid.”

* * *

 

You spend the next couple of days shadowing Mr. Stark on his own -- watching him do a number of philanthropist events, giving speeches here and there, hanging out with Dr. Banner in the lab (much to your confusion), and endless tinkering with his suits as if he preparing for a mission, even though he --like Captain Rogers-- were in limited capacity to what they could thanks to the Accords. 

You think in reds and different shades of gold with bright flashes of circuitry on what you could create in regards to Tony Stark. You didn’t think everyday gray would be important until Friday afternoon when he has you sitting in some rehabilitation building. You look around for a moment, as Mr. Stark tells you to wait.

That’s when you see it -- gray with a red core are burns intensely.  You try stop yourself from gaping at the sight of Colonel James Rhodes, as he walks up to you with a warm and familiar smile with Tony simply introduces him as Rhodey.

“Ah, you’re the artist Pepper and S--” Rhodey starts off, only to have Tony give him a look, “I mean, Pepper and  _ Tony _ are so fond off. Finally good to put a name to the face.” 

“It’s an honor to meet you, Colonel Rhodes,” you admit, as he pulls out his hand for you to shake it. You return it only to feel something you had never felt before. 

_ Pop! Pop! Pop! _

Something akin to rocky candy pops on your skin, as you shake hands with the man. He gives you a questioning look, gray moving in a way you had never seen before, but you simply smile and try to stay come at whatever might be happening. You say nothing and neither does Rhodey, as Tony moves forward with telling you stories of their youth together. However, you keep your body more reigned in than before. 

* * *

You feel that your aversion to seeing people’ colors has calmed down during the week, but you have grown scared of touching anything since the incident with Colonel Rhodes. You haven’t slept well since you have been trying to figure out exactly what was going on with you, though now you were trying to figure out why the shy Stark intern had such a strange pattern of light red -- in thin strips and entangled together, like a spider’s web. However, before you can do anything else, he’s out the door with a nervous chuckle and a wave.

Peter Parker was a strange, though endearing kid. 

“Are you going tonight’s party?” Mr. Stark’s voice takes you out of your thoughts, as he smile for a bit at the sight of spiders drawn on the corners of your sketchpad. 

“I don’t think that’s good idea, Mr. Stark,” you complain lightly, as Tony just shakes his head. “Especially if you want to make me some type of special guest, I really don’t like that type of stuff.” 

“ _ Just like, _ ” Tony sighs out, as you stare at him in confusion,”Look, I won’t out you, especially before the project is over. But, wouldn’t it be nice to take a break?” 

You frown for a moment, knowing that he has a point and he is  _ paying  _ you but you know something bad will come out of this -- it always does. 

You agree nonetheless to see Mr. Stark give you a cheeky grin and a pop of flashy red for a job well done. 

An hour, you last one whole hour between the twirling lights and endless darkness of the party before someone tries to grab you. 

_ It burns,  _ as you let out a silent scream and proceed to leave the room, running towards where you had been staying in the Avengers Tower, unaware that someone was watching the whole time.

* * *

 

Steve arrives to the Towers towards the weekend after a short mission and while he is tired, he is also excited to be back home and if he was being truthful -- to have a certain someone near the city as well. Steve knew that you were more accustomed to the New York countryside, but he was still that kid from Brooklyn and was hopeful to maybe show you around the city -- to show you the some new things and what he had learned since coming out of the ice. But, it seemed like Tony had other plans for you. 

Steve begins to settle in for the night after the debrief when he hears it. The rush of a familiar set of footsteps as a certain someone runs to where one of the many bathrooms is located. Mother hen mode kicking in, Steve grabs a water bottle and a towel before running to where  you are-- his sensitive hearing picking up the retching sounds and he can’t help but wonder what had happened. 

He picks up his pace, only to see the bathroom door is open and you are sitting on the floor next to the opening of the shower. Steve wishes there was better time to tell you how pretty you look in that navy blue dress, but your safety overrides everything else at the moment. You are letting out heavy breathes and there are tears running down your face, as you let out a small moan of pain. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve walks into the bathroom and kneels at your side,”What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“Too much feeling,  _ c-color, _ ” you manage to say, but it doesn’t make much sense to him. 

You grasp his hand and groan at the worry and mixed bag of emotions that you suddenly feel, as his blue wanes from dark to light blue like an ocean might. You sigh at the familiarity of it all, but you’re still too hypersensitivity from the party to do anything more, as Steve starts to question.

“Did you eat or drink something?” Steve asks cautiously, as you shake your head.

“Is it because of your powers?” he asks again, as you place his cool hand on your cheek. Steve can’t help but double over for a moment at the sudden wave of nauseous he’s feeling, as you give him a soft smile -- almost in relief that some of the feeling has left you. 

You only nod meekly, before blacking out completely.  


	8. amaranth pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revelations and we are so close to end! there are some mentions to the first deadpool, but only vaguely! honestly, i am sorry if this chapter sucks.

_ “I’ll be fine, Mr. Stark. You didn’t know and I wasn’t going to tell you.”  _

_ It was the first thing you had said when you woke up and he couldn’t help but let out a weary smile. Even when you were hurt, you were thinking about work and pleasing people above all else -- you really did remind him too much of Steve sometimes.  _

Tony Stark ended up staying up all night after he had found Steve and a certain artist in the bathroom where you were completely passed out on the floor and the blond had a rather strange look on his face. The billionaire philanthropist watched in worry as Steve had picked you up, trying it hardest not to directly touch your skin which was a little difficult with the type of dress you wearing, and brought you into his room.  

“She’s enhanced,” Steve murmurs, on the right side of his bed. Blue eyes watching you, completely protective and worried, “We had figured she was for awhile now, but something set it off tonight.” 

“At the party,” Tony fills in the gaps, “Someone tried to get her attention and touched her. She took off running like the whole place was on fire.”

“She can’t see color,  _ regular color _ , like we can, Tony,” Steve goes on to explain from what he had talked about with Sam and Natasha beforehand, “But, this is completely new. She touched me and I felt sick to my stomach.”

“She’s been a recluse most of her life,” Tony sighs out, as he starts feeling responsible for whatever you might be going through now, “Maybe there was a reason for all that. Best we can do is watch her and sees what happens. But, she’ll be fine -- she’s a tough one, all right.”

“I know that,” Steve sighs out, as Tony shakes his head as he notices Steve look at you like he might look at Pepper all the time -- Tony knew the man was head over heels, he just wondered if Steve knew it too since the man was rather stunned when it came to the emotions department. 

“Well, take care of her, Cap,” Tony gives Steve a rueful smile who just shakes his head before taking his place to your right side for the rest of the night. 

Tony leaves and knows he will have to do a lot more research on your personal background for the rest of the night.   

* * *

 

It takes you two full days to somewhat recover though you hadn’t moved from the bed and outside of Steve, you don’t feel like seeing anyone. Any other color outside from his dark blue, that mixes in with the black and gray you usually see, makes you sick to your core. However, you never let him physically touch outside of the first time and he seems to understand that. You wonder how the rest of the team is doing and how they are figuring everything out , though you hadn’t really been hiding it either. 

You had tried your hardest not to think of the old days, the ones you had somehow miraculously escaped from but it was hard not to since the sickness reminded you of the things you had been forced to do once. 

It doesn’t help when Steve comes in with a folder on the third day, a serious look --dark blue like what the ocean looks like at night-- on his face as you give him a meek smile from where you are sitting from. 

“What did your team find?” you can’t help but ask, as he takes the right side of the bed next to you once more, he had been doing it a lot now. Sometimes, you didn’t need to even to feel the waves of anger, loneliness, and worry that rolled off from the man. For being one with a never changing color, you sometimes felt his emotions stronger than anybody else’s now -- it was little scary. 

“You were experimented on,” Steve says it with a tone of disgust and anger than makes you smile just a bit, that he could feel so much for a person that he didn’t really know. Steve Rogers was much kinder than most of the people you had meet in your life, most of the Avengers were,  but also not like him. 

“My parents were geneticists, the kind that worked all the time,” you start explaining as you look at your hands for a moment, “Mom didn’t take very good care of herself, I came out sick as hell, barely survived. They looked at anything to help me get better, some doctor they knew -Killbrew- said he knew how to help. They believed him and off I went to those drug sessions. Used to cry all the time unless they gave me something to paint or draw with.” 

You stay quiet for a moment before going through with the second part of the story. You don’t need to look at Steve to note that he feels some type of sympathy towards your story, but you don’t need it. Not after the years had passed and you had hardened yourself to the memory of the testing and Killbrew.     

“Then, something happened. I couldn’t see actual color anymore, my parents thought is was best that I just stayed with the man and his testing, that I would be better that way,” you choked out in anger at the thought of the people who abandoned you, “Killbrew used to call me a  **failed** empath.”

“What do you mean by that?” Steve asks, as you pause once more, pink slithering to the corner of your eyes as if trying to calm you down, as if you are trying to protect yourself from reliving the past. 

“Could see people’s emotions, watch them change, but the moment I tried to change them, control them,  _ this _ would happen,” you motion to you sick and in bed with a little laugh, “But they still went through it, pumping drugs into me and making me try to read people, change their mind when they wouldn’t agree til I was too sick to move...Until I passed out or threw up blood. And then it happened,  _ I stopped seeing any color at all.” _

“Maybe, they knew...I’m not sure,” you let out a shuddering sigh, before continuing, “But they came after me and I fought, fought as hard as I could, though I don’t remember the exact details anymore.” 

You really didn’t, you were just a teenager when they has tried to take you out the first time. It had been nothing but bright colors, pops and screams that you vaguely remembered until you ended up down the river in the middle of nowhere. 

“I ran and fought for years until I settled where I did, went to school... just started drawing in black and white — like you do,” you explain softly with a gentle smile, thinking about those days, “It was slow, but I started seeing color again — the paints were like bright lights in the dark, and I was so happy. I cried for days, thanking whatever god I could by painting them. But, it got me unwanted attention, so I quit school.”

Steve knew what paintings you were talking about, he had seen them only a few years back but they still struck a chord in him whenever he saw them. Now, he knew the emotions that had ran through you when you had first painted them and he couldn’t help but think about the relief you must have felt at seeing your own version of colors again.  

“But, painting is something that sings to me, I couldn’t stop,” you admit and Steve can’t help but agree even though he could only due it in his spare time now, “Eventually Martha found me and I trusted her, as silly as that sounds, to show my work —I needed to pay my bills— and she promised me that I wouldn’t need to be there. I’ve lived like that for years.”

“Until Tony contacted you,” Steve adds, feeling a little responsible since he was the one --alongside Pepper-- that had brought your artwork to Tony’s attention all those months back. He had wanted to meet you and through this project he could, but now look at what had happened. You were sick and reliving everything you hated. 

“Correct,” you smile, slightly giddy that he feels ashamed over asking you for this project. However, it uplifts your heart to feel such a positive emotion, in a sense, towards your well-being since most people didn’t often care.

You stop your story there and sink into the bed once more, but Steve keeps asking questions about how your powers work and their limitations, from what you understand them. You do your best to answer them and while you can sense the curiosity and bright white color peeking at the end -- you can’t help but worry just a little that this might end up with him asking you to join the Avengers in some capacity, which it the last thing you want. 

“You could—“ he starts off and that’s when you feel the hesitation, the telltale sign of an ask from him. 

“People sometimes get to chose their paths, Captain Rogers,” you cut him off with a weary smile, talking slowly starting to make tired and emotionally exhausted, “You chose to help people as Captain America, I have chosen to paint. It’s not the same but it helps people. I’ve seen it once or twice and Martha has told me that too. Not everyone is meant to be a superhero, ya know?”

“I know,” he says solemnly, understanding more than you could ever know, but also understanding your stance on the potential proposition.

“I’ll do your testing and questioning,” you throw him a bone, “Hell, I’ll even stay in the Compound forever if you want me to and sign a civilian version of the Accords — but, the moment you want to turn me into a weapon and want me to use my powers on someone else for whatever reason — I’ll fucking run and I’ll swear you’ll never see me again.”

“I would never ask you to do that,” Steve states with a certain determination that makes you grin.

“You don’t run the show all the time, Steve,” you make the problem obvious, but still feel a little hopeful that you won’t have to run away when all this is settled, “So make sure you tell Mr. Stark and the others that too.”

“I’ll try my hardest, I swear,” Steve promises you in a tone of voice that you are sure is entirely his own and not that of Captain America, as you nod. 

“That’s all I can ask.” 

You sink into the bed and pull the covers over you, as a yawn escapes your lips telling Steve that you are pretty much done talking about all this for now. He gets up, as he sees your eyes peeking from the covers as he makes his way from the bed to the entrance of the room. He turns around, a couple of questions still burning in his mind that he can’t help but ask. 

“Do you know what happened to him? To Killbrew?” 

“I heard he was killed by one of his other projects,” you explain, thinking about what you had heard some time ago in the oddest of ways, “Bad people continued his work until some crazy vigilante destroyed everything a few years back. Good riddance is all I can say to that.” 

Steve pauses for a moment, wondering if he should be asking his next question, though he knew some of the colors that you already saw the rest of the Avengers as -- he wanted to know his own: “What color am I to you?”

“ _The loveliest blue I’ve ever seen_ ,” you sigh out before falling asleep, as Steve stands there for a good while before leaving the room with a grin on his face. And if you had felt the swell him of adoration that folded his entire body, you never bring it up.

* * *

 

Steve brings you in all the painting supplies you can think of the next day, as you set about working on your last Avengers project -- him. You ask him all the questions you can think when he’s got time to sit down with you and while you can feel he’s embarrassed and reserved, he still moves forward with answering them, sometimes they even lead to stories -- about him and Bucky Barnes, Brooklyn and all the other places he has been too. And though Steve doesn’t talk about the war, there are little stories here and there that make you smile, especially when hearing about Peggy Carter, much to his delight. 

Maybe, it because you are spending so much time with him that you first notice that there is always white outline to his blue when he is talking to you -- like a silver lining of sorts. You don’t know if this is new or just something that you had barely started to notice, but it got you curious over what Steve Rogers might actually be feeling when he spent time with you because since he had touched you in the bathroom the initial roll of waves you had felt was starting to die down and you would be lying to say that you didn’t miss it.  

You had a theory and you wanted to test it out, so as he sat on a chair not too far away from you after lunch. You decide to take the plunge and test it out. It wouldn’t be that hard to ask Captain America out, right?

“If I asked you something, would you do it for me?” you question, as he turns from looking at his sketchpad to giving you his full attention. Blue just a wisp lighter than before. 

“That depends,” he answers back. 

“Show me around New York,” you exclaim and you can’t help but smile as the white pops like bubbles, just a little in surprise, as he stares at you --lost but excited-- for moment. 

“What?” 

“When I took up this project, I knew something like this might happen but I took the chance,” you explain with an eager smile he can’t help but get caught up in, “I was tired of living in a shell, a bubble of a world. It was scary but I love color, I love people but they frighten the hell out of me. But, it’s something I wanna overcome.” 

Steve keeping looking at you, without saying a word as you get excited over the prospect and place your hands over your chest, as if trying to calm down your own heartbeat.

“I wanna see New York, its people and their colors,” you smile, the brightest he had even seen from you and he was captivated,“It’s... frightening, but I think I can do all right with Captain Rogers at my side.” 

“Don’t you mean--” he can’t help but state, as you stop him again with a shake of your head. 

“I mean what I say, Steve,” you state, before taking that last big step, “So, are you gonna say yes or no? Because _I think I just asked you out on a date_ and you’ll break my heart if you say no.”

“Well, I can’t say no if you put it that way,” Steve and you share a smile before moving forward with what day you can finally go outside and with precautions since you are technically being kept under watch by the Avengers. 

However, after everything you had gone through and what you wanted to experience, Steve felt that he couldn’t deny you any of that. It certainly didn’t help that he was sure that he was feeling something other than friendship for you nowadays --had been since he first meet you, and even longer than that-- though he wondered if you could see it. 


	9. plymouth pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn’t the best chapter, but i hope you enjoy it.

The date doesn’t happen as soon as you thought it would -- there are things to talk about, tests you have to take, and Steve already had a trip set to visit one Bucky Barnes in Wakanda. You try your best to handle everything on your own, but you needed extra support when you entered the lab. You got cold sweats and you barely ate at times, or if you did you threw it all up sometime afterwards. Bruce and Mr. Stark --with cautious swirls of red and green-- tried to make your experience as easy as possible (with Natasha or Wanda being at your side from time to time) and while you tried not to show any fear, your body still remembered the trauma. 

You had seen your own color darken into a muted grayish-pink, as it slithered in the corner of your eyes every so often and while you enjoyed dark colors more often, it wasn’t the exact shade --really not the right color-- that you wanted to see at the moment.

“So, have you felt any other changes since being able to start feelings other people’s emotions?” Bruce asks, as you think for a moment. His green pops into what reminds you of what the traffic signal might look like as a child, his center brightens as well and it easily tells you that he loves this type of thing -- scientific research and asking the big questions. It’s endearing in many ways.

Within the time that you had spent with both of them, Tony and Bruce had established that the limits of your powers were in seeing emotions through colors and now, since Rhodey, you could feel them whenever you touched a person or if someone touched you. Your limitation was with humans only thus far, since you couldn’t really see a full spectrum of emotions when it came to anomalies like Thor and Vision. Transfer of emotions was also possibility, but it wasn’t something you were willing to cross if  ever due to your past. Your color dreams were still a work in progress. 

“I think people with a more muted or darker color, might have more of a  _ louder ring  _ to me,” you explain from your seat in utter confusion, “Or something like that.” 

“And who have you been feeling that with?” Bruce asks, “Did is happen during your incident with Col. Rhodes?” 

“No, no,” you let out a sigh, remembering all the bubbling and nervous energy from a few days ago, plus how you were missing it dreadfully, “I felt it with Steve.” 

* * *

 

_ "So, you finally got to meet that artist you been touting about for awhile now, huh?”  _

_ “It’s actually more than that…” _

_ “What do ya mean? You asked her out or something?”  _

_ “More like the other way around.” _

_ “Well damn, I’m gonna have to meet this gal.” _

* * *

 

You locked yourself in your room one day, Steve still hasn’t come back, but you think you have enough to start on your project based on Steve Rogers -- you want to showcase the man you had seen behind the mantle though you aren’t to sure if you are ready for such an ordeal. Everyone knew Captain America, but there were few that knew the man that smelled like charcoal and whose hands were often smudge in pencil due to drawing too much. He wakes up early, but can’t stand coffee and takes a run to wake up instead though he still tends to sleep too late trying to still catch up everything he has missed. 

He isn’t just some dark blue that you were afraid of all those months back. Steve Rogers is a man who feels too much, but hides for the sake of many things and people. He makes himself that sacrificial lamb for the things he believes in and while he has lost and suffered as a result, he doesn’t seem to regret it.  You grab baby’s breath and cosmos. You has also asked Tony to get you some red brick dust from Brooklyn. White and red are splashed across the easel board, but not for the normal reasons that are associated with him. 

Nurse white for the woman that raised him and red for just one too many fights in the back alleys back in Brooklyn, you smile at the result halfway completed. However, it had also sprung up another project in the long run, though that was more personal if anything else. 

You look at the easel and smile, finding a good place to stop before placing the large blue plastic over it. 

“Hey,” you turn up at the sound of a familiar voice, to see a light blue fluctuate like a drum, as you smile at him, “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“Oh! Welcome back,” you smile as you get up from the floor as he nods, a nervous thrum in his blue sings to you, as you come closer to him.

“Is that?” he questions with an excitement in his tone of voice and you would like to believe that his eyes would sparkle for a brief moment, just like his color. 

“Your art piece?” you add as he looks at you, “Yes, but it’s still a work in progress.” 

“Could I get a--”

“No sneak peeks,” you smile, the nervous energy in the air making you go crazy with something that you aren’t quite sure what it might be just yet, but just being in Steve’s presence makes everything --the testing and sickness-- worth it, “Not even for Captain Rogers.”

You laugh, completely unaware on how his eyes are on you the whole time.

* * *

 

> _ I theorize it’s an acceptance of your feelings and the situation. It could have been any of us, but Steve was there in the moment. You reached out of his touch, which might have made your powers more centralized on him. It might even be a magnification of your own feelings.  _
> 
> _ What does that even mean? _
> 
> _ I think you know well enough.  _

“Are you all right?” 

The voice drags you from your thoughts, as you turn to see Steve giving you a worried smile from across the table. You nod and go back to eating the Italian lunch that the blond at taken you to -- one of the best places you could eat in all of Brooklyn and within an area that was relatively quiet compared to everything else in the  boroughs . 

Two days after his return from Wakanda, Steve had finally made the decision to take you out around New York City and while you had spent some time in Central Park as a warm-up to walk around town, it was still a hectic experience walking around and seeing so many colors come at you. You had worn a long sleeve and gloves as a precaution to your new powers since you didn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the street if someone pushed you around while walking, which happened more than once while you made it through Manhattan into Brooklyn. You stayed close to Steve, who was wearing a hoodie and cap ensemble, as you found yourself looking at the ground -something gray and dark- to keep you calm due to all the people crammed into the subway. 

It was scary as it was exciting. 

Steve had showed you places that were still around from when he lived in the area, the Italian place was one of them, and some other places that he had grown fond of since coming back to New York. The bakery and small art galleries where places you had enjoyed, but the paint shop had you grinning -- as flickering lights welcomed you home and you ran around like a child, trying to figure out what you wanted to buy as Steve just watched from afar. 

He had been like that all morning, he showed you around but never pushed you as you looked at everything at your own pace. He made a comment or suggestion here and there, but you were still getting used to everything and he made sure to ask if you were feeling alright at the moment. You were grateful and it just made you think about your talk with Bruce. 

_ I think you know well enough.  _

You weren’t sure what he meant and it was bothering. 

“I’m fine, just observing,” you finally answer back, as Steve nods. 

“If you’re okay, I have a more personal spot to visit,” he states with a shy smile. 

You and Steve walk a few block down to a very familiar art gallery, though you had only really been in there once or twice. You look at Steve for a moment as he just shrugs. It should be closed at this time of day, but it seems that he had asked Martha for the key. He opens the door as the lights automatically turn on. 

“This is one of my favorites places,” Steve starts off as he walks to the center of the room, as you glance at all the artworks with your name on it. Old paintings welcome you like familiar friends as you try not to cry a little, “The painter is one of my favorites since I stumbled to this place a while ago.” 

“ _ Steve _ ,” you say softly as he just looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. You think about it for a moment, as you take off your glove and motion for his hand. 

“Are you sure?” it had been a question he was asking a lot, and while you were thankful -- you were completely sure. 

“Yeah,” you answer back, as he takes your hand. It takes him awhile, as his eyes widen but the real magic is in his blue. It pops and bubbles like seafoam, as you can’t help the grin growing on your face, it reminds of Wanda and Vision or even Mr. Stark and Pepper.

As you walk slowly around the art gallery, with Steve’s hand in yours, he talks about what he liked about each piece -- you were slowly starting to realize what Bruce meant. 

You had been fascinated by Steve’s color from the very beginning and now you were sure, you wanted to know more about him as a person -- to share your time like this when you could. It’s then you come to the realize it. You stop and Steve does as well, as he turns to look at you. 

You might be falling for Steve Rogers, and it seems like he is as well.


	10. wisteria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t really know what was the best way to end all this because it was just a series that was focused on steve, but all of the avengers in some way. i try to close that gap here and hopefully you will enjoy the ending. thank you for reading!

_ It seems that the mutual feelings between you and Steve...resonate in some way. You can feel his a bit deeper than most others because you willing reached out for him when your powers began to change. It might also help that-- _

_ \--That you guys keep making googly eyes at each other.  _

That revelation comes a few days after your first “date” with Steve and it was a little worrisome in the beginning because  you didn’t want to intrude into his personal feelings or catch him off guard with your powers. Thus leading you into an awkward talk about feelings and what were the next steps going to be between the two of you. Since you were going to be staying with the Avengers in an official civilian basis from now on -- there was still too much that was unclear about your powers and more “research” was needed, though you knew it wouldn’t be like your time with Killbrew. 

However, the conversation with Steve seemed scarier than all that.  

“So, the gloves don’t come off unless you want them to,” you nod awkwardly, as Steve laughs -his blue just a little bit whiter and misty than usual-- at how you use the phrase at the moment. You shrug, feeling a little bit of his potential happiness into your very being, as you can’t help but smile.

“I definitely agree to that,” he states, before going into his side of the issues -- the potential of being with Captain America. 

However, though you might have been a bit sheltered due to your self-exile, you knew the mythos that surrounded Captain America as a symbol, which you weren’t used to. You were used to seeing a Steve Rogers that took runs in the morning and whenever he came back from a mission, sometimes spending hours in the gym. He spent his time catching up with the history that he had missed with a particular like towards Hemingway, though he seemed to enjoy the Beatniks as well --- much to your surprise. Steve Rogers could be moody and temperamental, but he had a good heart. 

It made your apprehension a bit easier to control, telling yourself that you could deal with anything that came your way when the time was right. It was time for you to stop running away from things that life threw at you and this was a major curveball that you wanted to handle with care.  

“If we take it nice and slow,” you start of as blue ebbs and flows for a moment in anticipation, “I’m sure it will be alright.”

* * *

 

It’s in between that decision and Steve going on another mission that you finally move through completing your last major Avengers artwork in the Tower. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go back to the Compound --you really missed your drawing room-- but rather your pieces in regards to a certain man were just too big to be moved back to the Compound, especially since you were close to being done and others were easier to move into the city where the opening party was being held. 

“This looks pretty nice,” you hear from your place on the floor and look up to see Natasha staring at second smaller painting with a small smile,”You can really tell.” 

“Tell what?” you can’t help but ask, as she lets out a light laugh. Clint is behind her and he gives you a small nod before going back to sitting on the chair and eating his late lunch, both of them looking like they had just arrived from a mission. 

“Nothing, nothing,” she states with a teasing nudge before taking a seat next to you, “Though I have to say I really liked my art piece.” 

“You already saw it,” you exclaim, not angry but horrified at what she might think of the spider webs, nylon, and tuff. You had gone sort of crazy with the whole thing when she left you. 

“Art might not my field of expertise,” Nat cocks her head slightly like looking at Steve’s still unfinished piece, “But thank you.” 

You aren’t sure what she means, but you can’t help the huge smile that grows on your face over your first good review from the Avengers.

* * *

 

It’s strange seeing so many huddled around your work, as people walk back and forth within the large Manhattan gallery to look at all the art pieces you had created for based of the Avengers -- all proceeds from the gala tickets would go for an arts program and the center that the September Foundation was opening up in Queens. And after tonight, all these pieces would be moved down there to be open for the the public to see. 

Mr. Stark made an opening speech that made people laugh, but when asked who artist was and if they were going to be at the gala tonight -- he simply said  no and you couldn’t have been more grateful -- it allowed you to walk around like any another guest and for once in a very long time to gauge how people saw your artwork. It’s a little scary, but you are more excited than anything else. 

However before you can move forward with anything else, you stop when you see a bright orange light in the corner of your eye. She is dressed in her finest clothes and there is a huge smile on her face, though she doesn’t make any commotion. She simply whispers: 

“You did a really great job,” she puffs her chest like a proud mother before giving you a wink and leaving you to your own devices.

As you look around and can’t help that her words are a little true, as pink pops a bit more than before from the corner of your eyes, then you start making the gallery rounds.  

* * *

 

Bruce is the first one you find starting at his art piece -- a dark green background with all the words you could think of etched in gold alongside equations that you knew that he worked on, though not just the one turned made him the Hulk. He is mumbling the numbers to himself when he finally sees you. 

He gives you an awkward but proud smile before going on his way and you hoped with all your heart that he enjoyed the piece in some way.

* * *

 

Thor’s is the third largest piece and placed in an area with soft lightning. It’s an array of color, all the ones you could get your hands on to replicate the Bifrost and while he isn’t essentially in the picture -- all the people and legends that are connected to him are, combining the old Norse myths with people he knew today. There is soft but huge grin on his face, as you see him walk through it once and then twice. 

“My friend,” he starts off, knowing that you are standing there to the side, “She would be very proud of how you have depicted her in battle...and Loki--”

You end up standing there for a good while, as people move to and fro, listening to the God of Thunder’s story once more. Though this time, they are happier in the reminiscence as you are blinded by all the colors of the rainbow.    

* * *

 

You can’t see Wanda’s face from where you are standing though her side is mostly empty --there is still sentiment that lingers over the things she has done and her powers--, but it is clear that her back is hunched over just a bit as Vision draws her into his body. Their art pieces are together because in essence, they both became part of the Avengers through the same event, from losses that aren’t easy to forget. The Wanda’s magenta is darker than usual, but the center --ever present blue-- is circling around and spinning, almost joyful for finally being noticed. 

In her current state, you would rather not bother Wanda, but as one of the first that welcomed you into the Avengers -- you hope you brought a piece  of home back to her.

* * *

 

You see Tony and Pepper staring at his piece for a good while. The way the center lights up from light to dark gray makes you hopefully that everything is functioning correctly. You pause for a moment before coughing, the couple turning to stare at you with awe as their colors seem to move in the same beat of curiosity. Mr. Stark seems speechless for a moment staring at how the red and orange you first saw him as blend into purple and dark schemes with pops of gold to signify stars and endless possibilities -- the colors you are sure someone might not usually associate him with. 

“I’m hoping that speechlessness means you like it,” you add in and Pepper comes in to give you a hug and congratulations, as Tony continues to stay silent.  

“It’s beautiful,” Pepper states and in her bright, calming orange you know she’s telling you the truth, as you nod and smile, “This is really everything we hoped for and more.” 

“I am glad that you think so,” you start off, “But, I really should be thank you two. I’ve learned and experienced a lot of things that I wouldn’t have if you two hadn’t knocked on my door. So, thank you!” 

Both of you stare at you in shock for a moment before laughing. Tony finally managing to add in: “Didn’t I tell you that you were going to have a masterpiece because of this, kiddo.” 

“Yes, you did, Mr. Stark,” you state with genuine happiness as he gives you a grin and a wink before going back to walking around with Ms. Potts, as she is completely unaware that she has a surprise waiting for her  back in their high-tower apartment.

* * *

 

You know that there is a possibility that Steve is in the gala event when you see Sam mingling with people in front of people of his own painting -- yellow shining like the sun as he draws all of them in with whatever story he is telling, an old story connected to the small Redwing at the upper left corner of the painting that he had grown fond of recalling one too many time with you . He stops you once through the crowd, but says nothing that might make anyone curious of who you are. 

Sam shines too brightly and fiercely that you have to look away, but you have a feeling that it’s right where he belongs.

* * *

 

It isn’t until the end of the night that you finally see him -- Steve Rogers in a three piece suit with his hair gelled back as people welcome him, while trying to grab his attention for a moment. However, his eyes were on something else -- the three pieces near the back of the gallery that were dedicated not just to one aspect of Captain America but to  _ Steven Grant Rogers _ as well -- as stated in the decal of the center picture. You stay a ways back as you watch him look around since there are fewer people due to it is the end but still going around and trying to ask him questions. 

It recalled different stages of his life in each piece, but the dark blue sunburst motif could be seen clearly in all of them. Bits and pieces from Brooklyn and WWII that you tried recreating and bringing back to life as best you could. The middle one centered around his early years, the right centered around Captain America both before and after the war, and the left a bit murky -- as if holding out to a future that still hasn’t completely been written yet where maybe Steve could finally put those dream into something solid or go for something completely different. 

However, it isn’t until much later when you are sitting across from him, in the Avengers Tower after the after-after party had ended, that you finally get the chance to ask him what he really thought about the whole thing.

“It was something else,” he states with a smile, “I can really see you put a lot of dedication and time into every piece.” 

You smile and nod before taking another bite out from your tub of ice cream as he stares at you for a second before moving forward with his next question -- the nervousness palpable in the air, even without you touching him, the sudden darkness of his blue told you well enough.  

“So, what are your plans after this?” 

“I don’t know,” you state with a shrug he keeps staring at you,  “Martha says I should look into making art book catalogue. I also have some commissions from Mr. Stark. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands for now, maybe even catch up on what I’ve been missing.”

“You know,” he adds with a grin, as if he’s proud of his sudden idea, “I could help with that...the whole catching up thing, sort of been doing it for awhile.”

“I would like that a lot actually,” you state without missing a heartbeat, as you place your hand in front of him. He stares at you seriously for a moment, understanding that you weren’t going to try to read him.

He places his hands on top of your and that’s when he feels it -- all the happiness, hope, and apprehension bubbling up inside you like a soda can at everything you are looking forward to. He might not see it, but you know that your shade of pink is brightening into a light red and his blue is sinking into something you have never seen before --  maybe, it’s what the bright blue summer sky looked over the Brooklyn Bridge, like all his stories you have grown fond of. He smiles before letting out a soft laugh, as you wonder if this is what everyone feels like when they might be falling in love. 

You weren’t sure where all this and everything with Steve was going to lead, but for the first time in your life -- you were more than willing to find out. 


End file.
